Guerro

The hostage feels the chimp’s malignant glare like knives through the skull.

Hairless the ape is a shiny odd blackish-red color.

“Guerro has alopecia.’ The junker says offering the primate a cigarette. ‘He’d love you forever if you got a light.”

The ape hangs the smoke between his pink lips and leans forward muscles bunching murderously.

Donny knows he doesn’t have a light but pats his pockets anyway.

“Never mind,’ the fat man sighs digging a zippo out of his flight suit jiggling like gelatin. ‘Better he not develop feelings if he has to kill you later. He’s a bitch when depressed.”

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